Moments
by PuffingNoise
Summary: Getting inside of Booth's head regarding Brennan and their increasingly frequent shared moments. Fillin and postep for 1.22


_A/N: Just a fill-in/post-ep piece for "The Woman in Limbo"-- getting inside of Booth's head regarding Brennan. Thanks for reading my first "Bones" fic!_

_Disclaimer: I do no own anything associated with "Bones"._

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For as long as he's known her, Booth has always admired Brennan's physical and mental strength. When he'd first met her, though attracted to her physical beauty, he'd found her to be a bit of a stick in the mud; cold a serious, most of the time, but with frequent moments of feistiness. The combination making teasing her even more fun.

Though, the longer he's known her, the more he's realized that it's all been a defense mechanism. By losing her parents at such a young age, she's put up walls to protect herself from ever being hurt again. Outsiders may think she's a little bit cold and distant, but Booth is one of the few who knows otherwise.

He's always wanted to see the more vulnerable side of her, always feels privileged when he gets small glimpses of it. There have been the few times when tears shone in her eyes and she'd quickly changed the subject to something scientific- to the current case they were working on, to the evidence in the bones that are always there- to what's concrete and always logical; science doesn't betray you, after all. But these glimpses have always been few and far between.

But this time, seeing her break in front of her mother's killer, seemingly asserting her identity to him, tearfully listing the facts about herself that she's known all of her life but feels slipping away, catches Booth by surprise; surprise to see this strong woman in front of him desperately trying to convince herself of who she really is, and surprise to hear how her voice squeaks as her throat is tight with emotion.

All he knows is that he hurts for her and wants to comfort her, to assure her that she is who she's known herself to be for her whole life, and that he knows that. Reaching out to her and murmuring these assurances is the most natural thing in the world right now, and soon she's sobbing against his neck, her arms flung around his shoulders, holding onto him. He can feel her sobs through to his core, and the wetness of her tears soaking through the collar of his shirt.

And though this moment is about her, about comforting her, he can't help but feel privileged to be the one she lets see like this, and the hope that he tucks away hidden behind his heart that someday they'll be more to each other than what they are now expands just a little bit and becomes more difficult to hide from.

When she pulls away from him, her head is ducked, trying to shield the tears from him even though she'd just let him hold her up as the tears had flowed freely. When he reaches out to her to swipe the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, her eyes widen, and she stiffens and he can practically see the walls being built up again. But she doesn't run; she doesn't start talking about the chemical structure of tears, and she doesn't turn her head and say they should be going. She simply averts her eyes as she lets him wipe the dampness from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, gives him a wisp of a smile, and then the moment has passed without much acknowledgement, just like all of their close moments over the past months.

In the back of his mind, though, he wonders when they will shine a light on these moments.

A week later, after Russ had gone back home, and the case is at an impasse, Brennan and Booth are at the lab late at night in Brennan's office going through evidence. There must be something there, must be something they've collected in the past week, after the infamous answering machine message, that means something; that could be the key they're looking for.

The Chinese food is long gone, and their eyes are crossing as they're trying to read, and Brennan sighs and lets her head fall back against the cushion of her office couch they're sharing. Booth notices her fatigue. Her normally bright eyes are dull with tiredness, and underlined with dark circles. He reaches over and smoothes her hair back from her face, his finger tips woven between the smooth strands, and he notices the slightly quizzical look she gives him, like she would have normally had something to say about it, but is too tired to muster up much of a reaction. So she just tiredly mumbles about how they must be missing something, and he rubs his thumb across her temple before dropping his hand.

The next thing he remembers is waking up in an initially unfamiliar setting, with a familiar scent wafting into his nose. He looks down and sees himself lying on Brennan's office couch with Brennan nestled between him and the back of the couch, her head resting in the crook of his neck, his arm around her waist. He spends a moment enjoying this, appreciating the picture they make together, thinking about how they've had more and more close moments with each other lately, and that that spotlight just may be coming closer to illuminating whatever it is that's expanding between them.

He says her name softly as he nudges her, and watches her eyes flutter open. He can't help but smirk when realization dawns on her, and she jumps apart from him to the other side of the couch.

"It's a primal instinct in all mammals to search out a source of heat in their sleep to keep from hypothermia in the winter," she says, running her hand over her face and through her hair.

"Sure, Bones," he says with a smirk.

"No, it really is. I once read this scientific paper-- What?"

He knew he was smiling like a goofy idiot, but he couldn't help but laugh at the way she always falls back on her beloved science in uncomfortable situations. It was endearing to him when others thought it was just plain weird.

"Nothing. I think it's time for us to go home to our respective beds and get some sleep."

"You really felt the need to add the 'respective beds' part?" she asked while collecting papers from the case files and returning them to their folders.

"Yeah, well, after our Rory-and-Dean moment we just shared on the couch..."

"I don't know what that means," she said, scrunching up her face in that way she always does when someone makes any kind of pop-culture reference.

"Yeah, well, I know you don't, and I'm glad about that this time because I'm kind of embarrassed to realize that I do know what it means... Come on, I'll walk you to your car."

She placed the folders neatly on her desk and let Booth put his arm across her shoulders as he guided her out of her office.

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_End._


End file.
